'Ejo': Hitchhiking mode activated by Eniang O.

Eniang (left) with some other 'Ejo corpers' in a truck

I finally got my good friend from camp, Eniang to send in a piece. He claims he isn't much of a writer, I'd say he did a fine job, wouldn't you? Doctor/Corper Enny is serving in a nearby town village called Bode-Osi in the OlaOluwa Local Government, at [probably] the [only] hospital [in the entire village].

Check out the post below:

"My mama told me not to talk to strangers" is a phrase we have all heard or even used at one point or another. However what you're about to read goes against almost everything your mother told you.

If 'Mayday, Mayday' is a military call sign for an emergency then 'Ejo' is our paramilitary call sign for hitching a free ride.'Our' here refers to youth corpers posted to OlaOluwa Local Government, Osun state, where I serve. To some of you,'Ejo' in the Yoruba language means 'please', but to us, it's more than that; it's a plea to mechanized road users to give us a free ride. 

Considering the location, not exactly backwaters but definitely rural, getting food stuffs, provisions and other urban necessities in that area is almost null. As a result, we have to go to our 'parent' town Iwo where markets, supermarkets, banks and ATMs are readily available and in numbers too. There are no buses in OlaOluwa and very very few private cars and really expensive motorcycles. An average trip to Iwo for a corper would cost about N150 during the day and N250 at night, and this most definitely puts a strain on our financial base of N19,800. 

So we've resorted to pleas for free rides on motorycles owned by farmers riding to Iwo to sell off their produce or owned for private purposes by indigenes in Ola-Oluwa. If we are lucky and I mean really lucky, we could hitch a ride in an air-conditioned Toyota saloon car to keep us cool from the afternoon sun. Sometimes 'business' may be slow and we could stand for hours trying to get a vehicle to convey us to Iwo but when the desirable is not available, the available becomes MOST desirable. In such a case you could find us taking 'Ejo' in pickup trucks (as in pictured above), lorries or like one very special day on our way to a CDS meeting day, a tanker. For some of us, it's really nothing to be ashamed of, we just think of it as our Ola-Oluwa Hummer Stretch or Limousine (I mean it's free for Heaven's sake!). 

The only qualification required to use this means of transportation is being a corper, a 'uniformed' man or woman (yes ladies do it, too. It's even easier for them). If you are not in your corper uniform then all you need is a form of identification, definitely not your NYSC ID card, though (I mean, you can't be flashing your ID card to every motorist on the road), rather your NYSC cap which can be worn on any form of dressing -corporate or traditional- for all to see. 

It may sound like this act is only peculiar to corpers but saying that would be a fallacy as it also occurs amongst indigenes. Some even go as far as taking 'ejo' to Osogbo, the Osun State Capital (guilty as charged, lol) or even Ibadan, the Oyo State Capital (30-minute ride from Iwo by 'Ejo', 40minutes by paid transport)

As much fun as using this diverse means of transport is (I mean, you don't get to enter a tanker everyday), there are attendant risks involved. One of which and most common is getting your beautiful attire or 'Ajuwaya' uniform stained with dust or oil (palm, engine or crude, lol). 

A risk you're willing to take you would say, right? But on a serious note, there is a far more grievous risk involved in this er, 'James Bond' transportation style and it's kidnapping.

Being corpers serving our nation in another state we are most certainly unfamiliar with, by logic and momma's words, we shouldn't embark on such dangerous activity as it serves as an opportunity for men of the underworld to carry out their unspeakable deeds. 

However, we are blessed to be serving in Osun State, "Ipinle Omoluabi", The State of the Virtuous and they are indeed virtuous and very accommodating especially to corpers, so hitching a free ride with this wonderful indigenes is virtually hitch-free. 

Moreover, it's Almighty God that protects us but be reminded 'Ejo' is not for the faint-hearted, it is only for people who are not afraid of the unknown, scared of the unseen, or fearful of the uncharted, so please DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. 

But if you do, do not forget to carry your 'Ejo cap', lol.

PS: OLA-OLUWA IS A VILLAGE, NOT A TOWN

The dusty foot journalist: Vous parlez Francais?

(You like my unoriginal blog title? I looked down at my feet on my way home from this trip, and they were extremely dusty. The first thing I thought about was rapper K'naan's 'The Dusty Foot Philosopher'. I tweaked it a bit, and...voila! A blog title is born!)

      

Since being here in Iwo, I haven't really had many opportunities to put my journalism degree to good use. So on Friday, I created one. 

During the town cry (where we went into the streets of the town to inform the villagers of our arrival and invite them to the programme) at the ZRRE programme we held at Iwo-Oke in November, something cool happened. I met a villager to whom I spoke in Yoruba but responded in English. Then I said, "Oh ok, you speak English then?" and he said "No, my English no too good. You speak French?". In my head, I'm thinking, 'Where does this man think he is?' lol, but I was also very excited at the opportunity to put my French to work so I ran with it.

Anyway, after the ZRRE programme, I was narrating the French-speaker-guy encounter to the 'Chiefo' (refer to last post for meaning :P) of NCCF Ejigbo sub-zone, when she paid a visit to the Iwo family house, but it didn't surprise or excite her like it did me because there's apparently a 'French-speaking people invasion' in Ejigbo. She explained that in Ejigbo, you'd find at least one French speaker in almost every house. This intrigued me so much that I decided that I'd take a trip down to the town some day to check it out.

After several weeks, I finally found time to take the trip yesterday. I wanted to do some research on this French-speaking population and find out why it was so. So, I set out. I had called Chiefo to inform her about my plan so once I arrived, she met me in town and volunteered to be my tour guide. We went to her house first, where I met her landlord. He would be the first of the many French speakers I would encounter that day.

After confirming that he did speak French, we went right into it. I introduced myself and asked some questions. He explained that he was into construction and that it is what brings him to Ejigbo from time to time. He also explained that he is originally Nigerian but having spent his life in Abidjan, he and his family have settled there. I looked around the town to take in the scenery and I noticed how much land there was and coming all the way to Ejigbo for construction work started to make sense to me. I thanked him for his time and we said our goodbyes. 

Chiefo was on her way to the Ejigbo NCCF family house, which I had wanted to see anyway so we headed there. However, on our way, we made several stops at the houses of the French speakers in the neighbourhood that she was familiar with. 'Mama' was the next person I met. She sells charcoal to Chiefo. Like all of the other French speakers I met during this trip, she is also originally Yoruba. She lived in Abidjan for about 30 years but moved back home 2 years ago with her grandson following the death of her husband. She was very nice to us. She told us not to 'forget her' and to bring her whatever we could as she is old and poor. 

                           

We continued our journey to family house. We made two more stops on our way. Mutiu's house was one of them. He's been back from Abidjan for over 10 years. Like Mama, he's also just trying to survive, it seemed. He is a cobbler. I think he thought I was weird, or maybe it was just surprise 'cause he's not used to the kind of attention he received from me. I told him I was a writer and needed his photograph. To my surprise, he allowed me take one. 

Mutiu 

Our final stop before family house was 'Mama 2's house. This was the funniest encounter for me. Chiefo had actually never met this woman but as we walked, we saw her sitting on a bench outside her house and I said to Chiefo as a joke, 'I bet this woman, too, speaks French'. To which Chiefo replied, 'It's possible o!'. So, I asked the woman, and she said 'Yes, yes, mo gbo French ati Yoruba'. I laughed so hard at the randomness. I bet the goats in this town speak French, too! She was also very nice and was probably the most excited interviewee of all. On my 'But why Ejigbo?' question, she explained that if you went to Abidjan, you'd find that it works the same way. I.e. you'd find an 'Ejigbo people invasion' there, too.

Mama 2

After this, we finally reached our destination. I said my hellos to the Ejigbo NCCF family and left for Iwo.

 

Ejigbo family house common room. It trumps Iwo's, yo!

This trip would definitely be on the list of 'My top 5 experiences in Osun' if I made one. I loved every bit of the trip and it made me wonder why I wasn't posted to Ejigbo. In deciding to serve in Iwo, I had considered the fact that I'd be teaching French as a reason to come because I believed that teaching the language would help me stay in touch with the language. Only to arrive in Iwo and be told I'd be teaching English instead because if we did start French as a subject, there'd be no French teacher to carry on after my service year ends. But God knows best. No regrets, just wishes. :)

PS: I think we'll call this one a town-village.

You asked for it...

I promised a few posts ago to do a post on the NCCF nicknames. So, here we go:

In most NCCF houses, every member of the executive committee (ExCo) of the fellowship has a nickname for his/her post. In fact, at the Iwo family house, it is prohibited to address ExCos by their real names; you are required to use their nicknames. The reason for this is to reinforce that 'family' vibe. However it is important to note also that using these nicknames during official ExCo meetings is prohibited. In scenarios of that sort, we have to keep it official.

Co-ordinator - Papa

Secretary- Uncle

Asst. Secretary - Aunty

Sisters' Coordinator/Welfare Secretary- Mama

Asst. Sisters' Coordinator/Asst. Welfare Secretary - A.Mama

Bible Study Secretary- Rabbi

Evangelism Secretary- Rugged (before you ask, we use 'Rugged' because our evangelism 

programme is called 'Rural Rugged')

Prayer Secretary- Prayo

Publicity Secretary- Publo

Financial Secretary- Finsec

Treasurer- C.B.N.

Musical Director- M.D.

Drama Director- D.D.

Transport and Organising Secretary- Landlord

Chief Medical Director- C.M.D.

Asst. Medical Director- A.M.D. 

Chief Usher- Chiefo

Whenever there's a post of an assistant, 'A-' would be added to the original title. As you'll see is the case in 'A.Mama' and 'A.M.D.'. There are some posts that never have 'A's, though, like 'Papa' and 'Uncle'. Every other post is 'A-able'. Also, while you might find some of these posts occupied in some other NCCF zones/sub-zones, they may not exist in others. For example, here at NCCF Iwo, we don't have a 'Chiefo', and our 'Aunty' is also the 'D.D.', while our 'A.Mama' is also the C.B.N.

You're allowed to laugh. We all found the names hilarious too when we first got here. Now, everyone's gotten used to it. It's crazy, I bet you some of our Batch B (June intake) corpers don't even know most of the ExCos' real names. Lol.

PS: It's a town, not a village! :P

'Abia - Umuahia, Abamola - Yola...'

A JSS1 class. Behind it is another. No, your eyes are not deceiving you. That is all for demarcation. BTW, because we have insufficient chairs, you'll almost always find two people sharing one of these chairs.

BEFORE
The other day, I went to get my hair plaited at Mary's mom's salon just a few blocks from mine. Luckily for me, Mary and Barakat were present to keep me entertained throughout the couple of hours I spent there. 

Something happened in that time: 7-year old Mary started reciting her 'states and capitals', something the JS3 students at my school can't successfully do. It was so coincidental because earlier that day I had called a few of these JS3 students to the staff room and asked them questions about countries and continents and states and capitals. They all agree on 'Abia-Umuahia'. The problem starts however from what comes after. One said, "Abamola-Yola" (Abamola quickly translated in my head to 'We met Mallam', lol) and I responded half-jokingly, half-angrily saying, "Nibo?" (to say, 'Where did you meet the mola?')

Okay, Okay, Mary is a primary 3 student at a private school and my JS3 students are from a public school. I considered this huge gap of knowledge between Mary and the JS3 students and in that moment, I made the decision to visit a private school and attend one of their classes just to see where public schools are getting it wrong. Maybe there's some sort of 'agbo' the private school students drink that makes them more book-smart. You find that the brighter students at my school are the ones who have at one time or another been enrolled in a private school. 

There are obviously huge differences between both school structures that have contributed and will continue to contribute to this gap (for example, the public school structure's disorganisation, the strikes, the lack of strictness and things like that alone can place public schools behind private schools by a number of years so much so that primary 3 students would be ahead of JS3 students). And let's not forget the obvious fact that private schools are more expensive than public schools. So, maybe I can't bridge this gap but I would still to like to go see what lessons we can learn from them. You know, see the things they are doing differently, with regards the method of teaching, that I can possibly incorporate into my own teaching style. 

AFTER
I wrote the above weeks before I paid a visit two weeks ago to a nearby private school, Alma Rohm Group of Schools. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the difference in 'board system'. Here, they use white boards and markers while we at Anwar-ul Islam School still use chalks and blackboards. Myself and the students spoke in English. Turns out the only time they are allowed to speak Yoruba is in Yoruba class. Go figure! Looks like it's paying off because in this class of 19, only one student had some problems properly expressing himself in English.

By the way, the students' uniforms were clean and there was enough space in the classroom for walking as each student had a table and a chair to him/herself. My JSS1 students are 70 in a stuffy class. Good luck trying to walk in between them.

Remember I wrote sometime ago that we would be starting after-school lessons at our school? Yeah, that didn't happen. Here at Alma Rohm, school closes at 2PM, after which lessons hold from 2-3.30PM.

The students at this school dream. I asked them what their dream jobs were and about 4 people said 'I want to be an aeronautic engineer'. I asked them which universities they had been looking at for the course. One said Ghana, another said England. We had three people who expressed interest in journalism. One of which wanted to go to Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU). The students at my school dream but I don't think many of them attach any serious plans of pursuit to the dream. 

What I found most interesting was that none of the Alma Rohm students I spoke with expressed interest in Bowen University, a pretty reputable university that just happens to be situated in the town of Iwo lol. I asked why, and they explained that having spent their entire lives in Iwo, they would like to live outside the town for a change. I don't even think university is in the cards for most of the students at my school. Which sadly isn't their fault.

From the Alma Rohm students' choice of course of study to university, I wondered whether the reason these students could have dreams this big and mine can't is because they can afford to; as in they have options. Knowing that you have parents who can afford to send you to Ghana for university can allow your imagination go that far. So, I guess money counts as a factor. I also considered the private school environment as a factor. Being surrounded by intelligent people who look smart and neat makes one strive to be like that also. A positive environment rubs off on you positively, but a negative one will most likely leae you the same or worsen things. Maybe also the exposure of the people they live with? Having parents and siblings one can look up to? The OAU girl says her dad talks about OAU being the best university in Nigeria (I smiled at this and then rolled my eyes. OAU and University of Ibadan (UI) alumni will never quit). A dad who went through university might more than likely make his child see the importance of education. I don't know. Thoughts are needed. Why do private school students turn out better than public school students in most cases? And is there anything that can be done by teachers to correct it?

PS: I'm constantly learning something new from and about my students.
They can be such a delight when they are not being naughty and as the end of my service draws near, I'm starting to realise how much of an impact they've had on me. I'm starting to focus more on making these last days count.

And yeah, it's a town, not a village! :P

The 'corpers VS students' strike

Uche

"LA corpers don serve finish o! They are just waiting for us so we can do P.O.P." - Jane. Lol.

Not officially, but with the way things went down last week, the above quote isn't too far from the truth.

LA Senior Grammar School is a school here in Iwo with a very bad reputation. The students are apparently spoilt and unruly. Infact, my corper friends who teach at the school say there have been quite a few corper VS student fights in the past. And apparently, the heads of the school do little or nothing to curb the students' behaviour.

Last week was another one of such corper VS student situations. I was able to get first-hand 'gist' as my friend, Uche was the corper involved.

What really happened
This notorious student, we'll name him 'Noto' for the sake of this post, as his real name is unknown, walked into Uche's classroom while a lesson was in progress. The teacher, Uche, asked him to leave, Noto starts 'bragado-ing', being troublesome and basically, putting on an 'agbero display'. Uche suspects the student must have been tipsy.

Teacher pushes him out. Noto starts looking for a stone. Uche dares him to move closer to him, Noto signals Uche to meet him outside instead for a proper fight. And so on. I couldn't help but laugh as I tried to imagine the scenario. It took me back to secondary school.

Uche left the scene when everyone started gathering around them and making a scene. 
He runs into the boy later. This time, Noto is now armed with a metal bar with which he wants to attack Uche. 

Soon after, the other corpers got involved. Those who had been in class were now outside, fuming and yelling. The Vice-Principal had apparently been watching, yet decided to remain silent. In this moment, the corpers decided that this was the perfect opportunity for rebellion: strike! They decided that they were tired of the violence, and more frustrating is the fact that the authorities don't seem to be doing anything to curb it. Apparently, one of the teachers even said to the corpers, 'Go if you want to!'. In Uche's words, "A corper almost slapped the teacher sef so thank God for almost!"

The corpers got the Local Government Assistant Inspector involved. He came down to the school to attempt sorting things out but after being treated rudely by the VP, he endorsed the strike, and decided that the school was going to be starved of corpers for a year.

Students have since come to beg the corpers at their houses claiming that Naughty Noto is not even considered a student at their school. 

As it stands, the corpers seem to be chilling and loving their break, with no plans of resuming on their minds. Lol. I asked CT when she thinks she might resume work, "Ermmm, let's see… maybe second week in January sha", she joked. The joke here lies in the fact that the second week of January is when our batch of corpers is expected to end the work aspect of our service year. 

PS: It's a town, not a village! :P

How beautiful are our feet - Follow-up

L-R: Eniang, Kenny, Me, G-Prayo, Christy, Rugged.

Kenny

Saturday was a really good day. I wrote a couple of weeks ago about the ZRR evangelism programme we held at Iwo-Oke. Well, it hasn't ended. The main programme has ended but the follow-up which is equally important, continues. Asides winning souls, part of the ZRRE plan is also to start a project in the chosen evangelism site, whether it's building or constructing something. For ours, we decided to do a borehole project.

In the past two weeks following the programme, we've kept in touch with the villagers of Iwo-Oke. We call it 'Rural Rugged follow-up', the aim is to ensure that now that they are newly borns in Christ, we put them on the right track, encouraging them and guiding them on how to grow their faith.

I missed the one that happened two Saturdays ago but I was fortunate to be at Saturday's. Our evangelism secretary emphasized the need for Yoruba speakers in counselling the villagers. In my head I'm like, "erm, it's one thing to be able to speak Yoruba, it's another to be able to preach in the language o!" but I went for it. 

We arrived at the village at about 4.30PM. Armed with our 'korope' (a mini-bus), drugs (the villagers had requested for), Yoruba Bibles, and a megaphone, we kicked off with a town cry which was led by an ex-corper and important member of the fellowship, Ondo-bred 'G-Prayo' (Don't ask. I will do a post on our nicknames one day, I promise!). He urged the villagers who had decided to give their lives to Christ two weeks ago, when we first held the programme, to meet us at the same venue as we had 'something' for them. Some of our corpers had gone ahead of us to the venue to welcome those who would show up.

After the town cry, the four of us: Myself, Kenny, G-Prayo and Patrick, went to join the other corpers. 

To my surprise, quite a few people did show up. I thought, 'OK, they are just showing up for free drugs', but after speaking to them, I realised that they were serious about their decision to follow Christ.

Counselling began. I started by asking my 'clients' what 'following Christ' meant to them, why they made the decision, what some ways of worshiping God were. I explained the importance of a relationship with the Trinity, which far supersedes religion.

Then I spotted a group of four girls. I'd say they were about 9-ish years old. I sat them down and asked if they were part of those who had given their lives to Christ, seeing as they had shown up at the venue, and that was the criterion for attendance we had provided. Nafisat was a believer, the other 3 weren't. So, I sat them down. I asked if they knew who Jesus was, only Nafisat did. Then I asked if they knew Adam, they said no. I'm thinking 'Whaaat? who doesn't know Adam' ? lol, so I had to go over the creation story, through to Adam's sin and then God's sacrifice, Jesus. We discussed how to become 'Jesus' child' through faith and what being one means; and being a new creature and letting go of old things. The girls were very attentive and intrigued. Idayat especially. It showed on her face.

After talking, I asked if they had any prayer requests we could pray about as a group, and they mentioned a couple, but before this I had asked if they were willing to become believers, explaining the importance of believing in the God one prays to. They said that they wanted to but their fear was in the danger of serving more than one God as they would still have to be at the mosque later that evening. I told them I understood. So we prayed about school; protection from danger; and for a better understanding of who God truly is. Then I asked them if they needed drugs medication for anything and referred them to where the doctor corpers were seated. I think what made me smile the most about my conversation with this particular group was their willingness to listen.

There was another group that got me excited. The one that showed keen interest in taking their journey to the next level by owning a Bible. They begged us not to forget to bring them Bibles next week. I assured them that we won't.

I went into these counselling sessions reluctant from feeling unqualified, to be honest, but I came out feeling good. 

Yo, preaching in pure Yoruba- not Lagos Yoruba that permits the addition of English terms here and there- is not beans, but it went really well. Far better than I had expected. God was present. God is real. God is faithful.

PS: This one is a village.

Footy. Iwo style.

Nothing like watching a football match Iwo-style. Once you get past the heat and the mosquitoes, you'll really enjoy the experience.

Incessant commentary from the indigenes, yelling at the TV screens as they scream their renditions of the footballers' names, like "Feepee" (VP) and Chamm-bah-layne (Chamberlain), is usually the highlight for me.

Sunday was my second time of watching a football match at one of the footy huts. The first was the Nigeria-Malawi one which happened over a month ago. And Sunday's was the ManU-Arsenal game. I haven't really kept up with footie since I've been here but I do my best to not miss Nigeria/Arsenal games. 

So, you walk into the little hut-esque building with walls made from joint pieces of wood. A man collects your N40-N50 at the entrance, then allows you to proceed into the building. Sit wherever you like. Well, wherever you can find space. You'll find one standing fan, 2 television screens on which the game is being projected, and over 50 loud and sweaty men, all giving you the surprised look for being the only woman in Iwo interested in football.

I went with a friend. When we got to the entrance, my friend asked the man in charge, "How much?" MIC: How many people? Friend: Two. MIC: *seeing me* Woman too? ehn? OK, you pay N40, the woman is free.  Me: *smiling* Ahhh, nice one! 

It was too dark to take a picture of the building. I will definitely take one at the next game. 

There was this particular man at Sunday's game, though. He had a comment for literally almost every move made by each player. I didn't think this was possible until Sunday, lol. I know Nigerian men get passionate but Iwo men are particularly on a different level.

-"Abi won sepe fun Falensee-ah (Valencia) ni?" - Is Valencia cursed?
-"Ehehn, oya je ki won mo pe oni l'ojo ibi wa" - Let them know today is our birthday! Not literally anyone's birthday, by the way. He only said this as if to say "Let them know who the boss is!" - This he'd yell whenever a ManU player was about to score a goal.
-"Kunle, ti mo ba ti gba dukia re tan, o o lo join Kwara United"- Kunle, when I'm done taking all your property, you'll go join Kwara United. My guess was that he and Kunle had made a bet prior to the game.
-"Bentnah were! Fine boy ni yoo ma se kiri! Mo hate e ehn!" - Bendtner, Mad man! I hate him. All he's concerned with is being a fine boy. - This he yelled when Bendtner was brought on as a substitute.

...And continuous hilarious comments of the sort.

Given the above, I'd like to review my '10 joys of Iwo' list and add:
11. Watching footy with Iwo indigenes.


PS: I still dare say, it's a town, not a village! :P

JOStified part 1 by Ephraim O.

Ephraim was among the many who made the trip to the NCCF headquarters at Jos, for the national conference which marked the organization's 30th anniversary. Unfortunately, I was unable to be there. Below is the first part of his account of the experience:

Exhilarating best describes the feeling. You could sense it in the songs chanted in unison, the smiles, jokes and comedy bouts, history told by comrades, knowledge shared in the midst with accompanying affirming knuckles and hi fives given to him/her whose statement you best concurred with. 

It was my first 18-hour trip (I wasn't alone in this novelty of a trip) heading from Osun to Jos in a Toyota Hummer bus packed filled with corps members and their luggage. Consequently, considering the spate of insecurity in this part of the nation, our decision to make this death-defying, terror-shaming trip was birthed from a passion for upgrading our spiritual O.S.

We stopped at almost every state we got to (for annoying reasons best known to the drivers) and soon we had exhausted the limits of our vocal chords, with tiredness setting in, we began to take differing anatomical positions for what we could make out of sleep. With the exception of the lady that had fallen travel sick, and a few of us that burdened ourselves with knowing our location on BlackBerry map and occasional sign-posts, most of the other fellas had fallen prey to sleep by evening.

                                       

War against hunger wasn't as fierce as imagined. Light feeds, small chops and soft drinks came in handy, keeping the mouth busy and hunger at bay. The tactic was to avoid any attempt to greet the bush for "piss offerings" or any other form of offering. 

Briefly we waited at Kaduna for two buses from our convoy of seven that had lost their way somewhere around Keffi in Nasarawa state. We were lucky to get a Mallam who sold a miserable meal of sun baked bread and over-salted omelette at about 11:39pm for dinner.

                                      

I learnt two critical lessons from my sight-seeing trip to Jos. First was what I choose to brand not as foolishness, but trust and a unique way of life in that traders left their oranges and Irish potatoes shaded on the high way with no fear of theft. Wow! That wasn't fairytopia, I saw it live in Kaduna and in Nigeria.
Beware; do not try this in Lagos, Benin or Onitsha.

The second was that we had always found slight condemnation for our Foladele friend who always held small chops in her bag. But on this very trip I discovered its relevance and so rescind my decision. Choosing to rebrand the action, 'Hunger back up'. 

To be continued...

PS: It's a town, not a village! :P

How beautiful are our feet

Well, not literally. I'm only referring to Romans 10:15.

You could say we were fulfilling the Word when last weekend we camped out at a rural area for our Zonal Rural Rugged Evangelism (ZRRE) programme.

Off we go!

A bit of background info

The Nigerian Christian Corpers' Fellowship (NCCF) was birthed 30 years ago with the aim of taking the Gospel to several parts of the country. The idea came in the form of the prophecy: 'A time will come when Nigerian youths will be paid by the government to take the Gospel to several parts of the country'. It's why at NCCF, we believe that in the hierarchy of importance, it's NCCF first before PPA. So, at the very core, evangelism is what NCCF is actually about, and the ZRRE programme is a result of that. Over the years, NCCF has grown into a huge organisation with branches in every state in Nigeria (as in, NCCF Akwa Ibom, NCCF Lagos, NCCF Osun, and so on); and even little branches in almost every local government in each of these states. For example, in Osun, there is NCCF Iwo, NCCF Osogbo, NCCF Ola-Oluwa, NCCF Ife Central, NCCF Ede South, and so on. NCCF Osogbo is our oga at the top, so we report to them about any and everything and they are usually in charge of organising the State Rural Rugged once a year where every zone and sub-zone in the state is expected to be present. Then there's Zonal Rural Rugged which is smaller and as the name suggests is usually organised by zones in conjunction with their sub-zones.

Last weekend was the Iwo zone ZRRE. Being sub-zones under the Iwo local government, Aiyedire and Ola-Oluwa teamed up with us. We gathered together our mats, megaphones, generator, plates and spoons, our doctor corpers, hair-savvy corpers, our welfare secretaries AKA 'Mamas', and every possible hand we could get, and we set out for Iwo-Oke; a very small, pre-dominantly Muslim village in the Ola-Oluwa local government. Our camp site was a secondary school building. The only secondary school in the village. We arrived there Friday afternoon and would be there 'til Saturday afternoon.

"The main, the main"

We kicked off the programme with a session of worship and prayers, then a film show followed. Some more prayers took place after. Then dinner (we had cooked in Iwo and brought it along, alongside utensils and foodstuff we would require to make the next day's brunch) and lights out followed. 

From 12.30am-2.30am, we held a prayer chain where each zone/sub-zone were awoken to come out and pray as a group for an hour each. So, the Aiyedire corpers prayed from 12.30-1.30, then Iwo followed from 1.30-2.30 and Ola-Oluwa from 2.30-3.30. Hence, prayer chain. HATED getting woken up at 1.30am, or maybe it was the how I hated (megaphones should be banned :) ) but it was well worth it. The peace God's presence gives is beautiful, I tell you!

The next day was "the main thing". We had gone out for a 'Jesus march' the evening before and early that morning too; which just means a walk into the village to inform the villagers of our arrival and invite them to the programme. We told them that there would be a film show that Friday evening and the next day, there would be gifts, counselling and free medical check-up. Most of them had promised to come and they did. Jesus marches are super cool and are usually made lively with our chanting and singing.

Saturday's programme was divided into departments. I was in charge of the children section, which Jane helped me with. It was lots of fun; we spoke about God's love, played games, danced, and gave them biscuits, clothes, books and pens/pencils. We asked if they wanted to give their lives to Christ and a lot of them showed interest. We had a set of Muslim twins present in our circle, one of which initially raised her hand to indicate interest but after catching her sister's eye of disapproval, put down her hand down. Jane and I smiled as we reminded them that salvation is a personal decision.

The programme setup went thus: As the children walked in, they were immediately sent to the children section. While the children section fun was in session, the children who wanted to get a haircut were selected and sent to the male haircare section, and after, were brought back to join us.

Female hair care section

Male hair care section

For the adults, they were registered upon arrival at the venue. After this, they were sent to the one-on-one counselling section where they were told about salvation, and offered general advice. After this, they were sent to the Faith Clinic for one-on-one prayers, then sent to the classroom the doctors had occupied for free medical check-up and free drugs. Then, they were led to the welfare department to receive free clothes. The female hair care section was beside the gift section so after receiving their gifts, if they wanted to 'ko' their hair or plait it, they could just go straight through. For the children, after talking and playing with them, we sent them to the welfare department too, to receive clothes, books, pens, biscuits and sweets.

Medical section

Faith clinic

After all the villagers had left, it was time for brunch. Some of us had been exempted from the Jesus match earlier so we could prepare the brunch. After eating, the NCCF family formed a closing circle where we thanked God for the success of the programme, sang the family song, and parted ways. The buses were on ground to transport us back to our locations.

ZRRE was short and sweet, yet powerful. Not that I'm surprised at the success seeing that we spent several weeks praying for the success of the programme. God is faithful indeed.

Iwo-Oke for Christ, yo!

PS: It's a town, not a village! :P. Ok, this one is a village sha. Lol.

The N10 fine

After teaching my students 'Speech work', I was packing my notes to leave when I noticed some hesitation. I asked them what the problem was and they expressed that they wanted me to continue the lesson. I was surprised because not only was my time up but it was also break time. And I know these kids don't play with break time/food.

It was either they enjoyed getting fascinated by my pronunciation of the English words I was teaching them or they were actually interested in some more learning. Judging from how they'd chuckle whenever I pronounced what they'd usually call 'os-pi-tah' as 'hos-pi-tul', I'll go with the former. Whatever the reason was, I decided to stay and play some games with them. During the course of this, I realised how horrible their sentence construction was, so I asked for suggestions on how we could tackle this problem. Some suggested break-time lesson, others suggested more reading. Then I heard someone say something about enforcing a N20 fine on anyone who speaks Yoruba in class. And it hit me! THIS IS IT! THIS WILL BE IT! This was the idea we were going to adopt but with a little tweaking. 

In that moment, a new rule was born: Anyone who speaks Yoruba in English class will be fined N10. You won't be fined if you attempt to speak English and end up 'tabon'-ing, the rule would only apply to you if you did decide to speak and it was in Yoruba.

This happened just yesterday, and because I haven't been at school since 'cause today was my day off, the plan won't officially kick off until tomorrow. I'm looking forward to that and just seeing how it pans out as time goes on. I think if we adhere strictly to it, it will make a difference. We've also appointed a "financial secretary" who will be in charge of collecting the funds, lol.

OyaNa! LezzGoDiyeh!


PS: It's a town, not a village! :P

PSS: My camera is temporarily faulty, hence why I've been slacking on sharing pictures. But I'll soon have that sorted out. 
Thanks for understanding :)

Baby steps

I have been wanting to do this post. Not only so you'd know what I've been up to this term but also to serve as a reminder for me, of my goals for the term.

It's been over two weeks since teaching resumed and I'm already enjoying it. A little more than I did last term, I'll add. This is because with now being more familiar with the students, and having a clearer understanding of the areas in which they struggle, I find that so far, teaching this term has been easier and less stressful. As some of you who have been following my journey might know, teaching my kind of students can at times be very difficult and frustrating for several reasons I've mentioned in previous posts. The mistake I made last term was that I focused on trying to strictly follow my lesson note plan. However, I have decided that this term, I will throw caution to the wind and just "freestyle". 

The long break helped me realise that as long as I keep trying to tackle their problem from the top, I will keep getting frustrated, so I've decided to start from the root, as one should with any problem. The problem my students have has eaten so deeply into their system that one can only/must fix it by tackling it from the bottom. For example, if essay writing is scheduled in the syllabus, it would be pointless teaching that when the students aren't even confident enough in their understanding of the basics of constructing a sentence, or of when to use verbs, nouns and pronouns. I realise that I must start by making them understand the smaller things before we can proceed to the more complex things, and we may never even get there seeing as I have about four months left here, but we can still make progress.

As part of the 'baby steps' plan, I've incorporated frequent dictation exercises into the syllabus. Last week was the first of many to come. It was with the JS3s. I dictated 20 words, one of which was 'uniform' and when the time for corrections came, I asked a student to step up and share with us how he had spelt the word. He wrote 'yulifomu'. His mates laughed and before I could even tell them to stop, I found myself chuckling a bit, not because he misspelt it but because he spelt it the exact same way their strong Yoruba accent permits them to pronounce the word. Anyway, I showed him the correct spelling. Knowing my lazy students, I had imagined that they would have forgotten what they had learnt, so the next day, I went to their class and asked the same boy to come to the board like he had done the day before, and spell the same word. What put a smile on my face was not only the fact that he spelt it correctly but the confidence with which he wrote the word on the board. It was a proud moment for me. I repeated the same test a week later (today), and he still didn't disappoint :)

I foresee this new method I've adopted being very time-consuming and putting me behind on lesson notes because topics which should normally be exhausted in one period would now require three periods. But the aim of teaching is less about sticking to lesson notes and more about ensuring the students learn, right?

A fellow corper, Jane, and I got talking the other day about what these students need. We decided that it isn't just about caning them but also about our patience and tolerance as teachers. We've weighed the results of caning them versus speaking sense into them. While the former might be effective in making them see in that moment that they've done something wrong, a lot of times, the latter is how one can truly get through to them. I've had to realise that I have to go easier on them as it's not always a laziness issue that holds them back; that it's not their fault that no matter how hard they try, their background will always reflect in their inability to pronounce the 'sh' sound, and that as much as they'd like to write lovely essays, the reality is that they don't even know how to construct simple sentences. Some of these are things you learn in primary school, which I'm sure for one reason or another, some of them skipped.

The system isn't helping either. Don't even get me started on the fact that 30% was the pass mark last term. I came back this term to discover that the students who were supposed to repeat a class, i.e. the ones who didn't meet the pass mark, have been put through to the next class. Why? Then, our public schools are filled with teachers with questionable qualifications. If their teachers are "tabon-ing", how won't the students do the same?

Like I stated earlier, we might not get through the syllabus this term and that's fine. I'd feel fulfilled leaving here knowing that Suli in JS3 can hold a 5-minute conversation in English. It won't be easy; a lot praying, caning, sweating, yelling will be involved. I've already started cutting into other teachers' periods sef, but oh well, lol.

I've gotten a couple of really good ideas from people on how I can do more with the students. Thanks ID and KK.

Jane and I have taken these ideas into consideration and added a few of our own too and with these, we have some helpful projects planned for the next few months. I'll share them here as time goes on.

Evenings are my fave here in Iwo. Since I love LOVE LOVE!!! evening breeze so much-and today's was exceptional btw-, I decided to type up this post outside. So calm, so yummy.

PS: It's a town, not a village! :P

We're back!…and we're leaving again

Written: 02/10/13

"Aunty! Aunty"

"Oya, lo gba bag won", whispered one to the other. 

"Ma worry", I said to her, as I saw her making her way towards me. "Ye! O wo le!", one of her friends present yelled, covering one eye, as we'd do to mean 'ela oju kan' or 'ela' for short. This they do whenever I refuse to indulge kind gestures such as this one.

Yup, I'm definitely back at Anwar-ul Islam. As I stepped on school soil, the first thing I noticed was that the grasses had grown really bushy. It was clear that we had been away for too long and the environment had been starved of naughty students (since we are surrounded by mass grass coverage, you can imagine that cutting grass/mowing the lawn is a popular punishment for the kids who misbehave).

As I moved closer to the staffroom, I met other students on the way who prostrated themselves with excitement to 'hail' me, to which I responded with a smile. "I have missed these children!", I thought to myself. 

The teachers in the staffroom welcomed me with news about a relocation. Our holiday had lasted so long because Governor Aregbe had been working on merging schools. For us, Anwar-ul Islam would join Islahudeen High School. the latter would be our school for the next school year. This surprised me because when we were first posted here, we had cause to believe that Anwar-ul would be our permanent Place of Primary Assignment (PPA) for the service year. The teachers, however, didn't seem bothered. I guess as a public school teacher, you learn not to get too comfortable anywhere as change is constant and transfers can happen anytime.

We were also told that school time for junior schools would change from 2pm to 3.30pm, and from 2pm to 5pm for the seniors, as afternoon prep would be introduced into the public school system. 

My initial reaction was to grumble but after being enlightened on the intention behind the adjustments, I embraced the idea. I wrote in my 'Last day of school' post about revision being a big problem of the students', so to have heard that they would be getting some supervised after-school prep time was good news.

More time in school would mean less time for their after-school hustle which though it keeps their hands and minds busy, usually doesn't give them time for revision. (Though I won't entirely blame this on their after-school jobs because if they cared about school as much as they did their jobs, then they would squeeze out time to revise). This change in times could go either way but I'm hoping the fact that there'll be supervision will make it an effective 1hr30mins/3hours.

Mrs B., one of the teachers present in the staffroom at the time I received the news, said, "Aregbe knows what he's doing. It's just that we lack structure". I'm pleased that we are taking a step in this direction. Since being here and having a better understanding of how the public school system works, I've felt that our schools could use more attention from the government. After all, public schools are the government's property. What I mean is, more can be done to excite these kids about school and make the environment more conducive to learning. I had expected the worst before I got here and was surprised upon my arrival, to discover that we had sufficient textbooks and stationery and even hold mid-week quizzes for the students. 

Furnished buildings, a better structured timetable (that includes educative games, more sports and visual learning; the other day, I supervised a P.H.E. exam where they were asked to draw a handball court. I smiled because I knew they didn't know what one looked like. They could only draw it not as something they were familiar with or had ever seen, but as something they had been shown in their textbooks in class), more (well-educated) teachers, electricity (there are no bulbs or fans or even a connection to light for us to know when there IS light), doors, school buses (with this new merging system, students are having to spend more on transportation) and the likes could really make a difference.

My father speaks well of the public school structure that existed back in his time and how it was so well organised that private schools weren't even popular because everyone preferred public schools. How nice would it be to have some of that excitement revived? 

Any ideas on what else I can do in my remaining four months here to motivate/help these kids? Bear in mind though, that we are dealing with unmotivated and lazy people so your idea has to be super great and continuous even after my time here is up. I was and still am very enthusiastic about bringing change here. The after-school lesson plan I came up with last term eventually failed 'cause the students lost interest. 

Anyway, glad to be back. Two months is too long for a holiday!

PS: It's a town, not a village! :P

House of the family by Ephraim O.

Yes, the guys help out...every now and then

I've been meaning to dedicate a post to the NCCF family house, my second home in Iwo, but I keep procrastinating 'cause it feels like one of those posts which would require a day or two to put together. I fear omitting important details as there are endless things to write about. One day, though. One day.

In the meantime, Ephraim, a former housemate, has put one together. Check it out:

Stolen times could be pleasurable especially when it is from the thick of a headache-inducing chore. On this particular day at my workplace, it wasn't a classical case of increased workload but boredom from the routine. Immediately the call came, I didn't bother getting the details from the caller. "Excuse me Ma'am, I've got an emergency situation to handle," I muttered hurriedly, creating an atmosphere of urgency.

Ten minutes later, I was done. It only required penciling down my name and signature. I gazed at the bare floor like an old man afterwards, submerged in thoughts of what to do with the next thirty minutes. Returning immediately to work wasn't an option. The atmosphere of angst still needed to be retained at work by a little delay. Then the thought hit me like a hardball, 'House of the Family!'

When we first got to this town, it was the only place we could call home. And even after most of us have found our various houses, it's still the place we can call home outside our home. The NCCF (Nigerian Christian Corpers' Fellowship) family house. The place Housemate Emma Blu nicknamed 'house of the family', and it stuck like glue. 

And true to my expectations, the house bubbled with excitement and pomp of corpers, not a few. We had 'Bobo' or OmoBOLANLE, as she prefers to be called. Despite her lively nature, she has the knack for defending her beliefs with relentless passion. You want to see the full glare of her gesticulations? Engage her in a debate or argument.

Also present in the house was the cake making trio of DiDi, Rabbi (in trousers) and Kenny. This DiDi guy teaches ladies cake making and other wedding accessories. Though Iwo may not boast of a single fast food joint, a well baked cake from this trio combined with one chilled Chivita. . .who needs Tantalizers or Sizzlers?

The ever conventional Nonso, popularly referred to as 'Uncle' was also present. Hmmm! I can say volumes of him and not be bored. He is a passionate fellow. You may not fancy his persona at first, but you can't deny his importance. I'll describe him as a bone that can neither be chewed nor swallowed.

Emmanuel AKA 'Emma Blu' was also present. Hilarious, principled, unassuming, give him a pair of drum sticks and you have won a spot in his heart. 

What can I say of this enigmatic icon. Folz, Dele, 'Aunty', the names are endless. I'm still yet to find a razzer LADY (note the adjectives and the emphasis) than this. Hardworking, caring, sharing, a good cook, playful, serious (Folz, don't edit any part of this article). She's been a wonderful friend since our first step on Iwo soil. 

The list of housemates still includes the likes of Gerald, Pastor Patrick, Ogbeni of the Federal Republic of Family House AKA Olusegun, Super Shy Mama Eunice, A.Mama Grace, Favour, etc

I had to leave after sharing shouts, songs and teasings with folks present. House of the family…hmm! The only sane place in Iwo with many 'insane' people.